


A Favour

by Shortsandramblings



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:36:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4806470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shortsandramblings/pseuds/Shortsandramblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stannis, I need a favour” That’s how it all started. Those five little words out of Robert Baratheon’s mouth that lead to Stannis participating in a bidding war at one of Margery Tyrell’s Charity dinners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1 - A favour for a Lady

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tommyginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyginger/gifts), [Sarah_Black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/gifts), [ShipMaester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipMaester/gifts).



 

Stannis had barely sat in his chair, returning from a meeting, when his older brother barged into his office, his voice booming:

“Stannis, where have you been, I’ve been looking for you everywhere?!”

Stannis raised an eyebrow: “Surely Massey informed you I was in a meeting with Jon Arryn.”

Robert frowned: “Massey?”

“My personal assistant.”

Robert looked outside the door, to Justin Massey, to then turn back to Stannis, his eyes bulging out of their sockets: “You mean, _that_ is your PA?... you have a _man_ PA?”

Not wanting to get into the whole discussion of the merits of a female assistant versus a male assistant - _Only the Gods will know how long that will take_ \- Stannis pressed on with a sigh: “Robert, what do you want?”

Thankfully, his brother only gave a final glance back to Justin Massey, before he sunk into the guest chair facing Stannis’ desk:

“Stannis I need a favour” – _Fantastic; that is probably the worst thing he could have said... Well, at least in the top ten_.

“No.”

“Come on, just one small favour and I’ll never come to you ever again.”

“When have you _not_ asked a favour from me?”

“Whaaat?... I have no idea what you mean.”

Giving his brother a scowl – _really_? – Stannis put his pen down and started enumerating the many occasions:

“When I was five and you were eleven, you begged me to say that it was me who had broken mother’s vase, not you. When you were fourteen, you left me – an eight year old – to watch over Renly, so that you could go on a date with Mhaegen. When you were seventeen, you tried to make Lyanna Stark believe that the noises she heard coming from your room was not you and Delena Florent, but me-“

“-All right, all right, all right; you’ve made your point.” Grumbled Robert.

“I could go on.”

Robert sunk more into the chair, sighing like a petulant child, “I’m sure you could, but no, I will relieve you of such an endeavour. ... And might I say, that last one shouldn’t count, since it didn’t work.”

Stannis glared at his brother: “Of course it didn’t work: I was eleven. No eleven year old does those kinds of noises. Moreover, Lyanna was not an idiot, unlike most of the girls you were interested in.”

Waving his hands in defeat, Robert grimaced: “Fine, fine, fine... so I come to you for a bit of help; that’s what family’s for.”

Stannis challenged him: “When is the last time you helped me out?”

Robert frowned as he started to think of a moment. - _As if he is going to find one..._

Not even a full minute had passed before Robert groaned in frustration: “Fine... but this isn’t actually for _me_ , it’s for Ned. _Ned_ needs a favour and you owe him for lying to his sister all those years ago.”

“I didn’t do the lying, you did.”

Straightening himself a tiny bit, Robert started eyeing the different objects on Stannis’ desk, waving his hand in the air as if swatting a fly: “Whatever, that’s just a technicality. It’s not like anyone is on trial or anything.”

“Well... you do have your moments, but yes: we thank the Gods that no one is on trial.” – _Yet_...

Picking up the small boat figurine Shireen had given him for his birthday – _Gods, I hate when he does that and messes up the order of my desk_ \- Robert continued as if Stannis hadn’t said anything:

“So you’ll do it right? And it’s not actually for Ned; it’s his daughter who needs our help. Surely you have some kind of rule in your ‘ _judgemental –duty-bound-moral –compass’_ that says you need to help a ‘ _damsel in distress_ ’?”

 

At the comment, Stannis tried to remember nearly a year ago, to the Baratheon Summer Barbecue, where all the Starks had been in attendance. Regrettably, no face materialised in his mind, only the memory that there were _two_ Stark girls.

When he looked back at Robert, he unfortunately noticed his brother’s great big paws were still fidgeting over the small ship. Gritting his teeth, Stannis inquired: “Which one?”

Robert looked up from the wooden boat: “Which what?”

“Which daughter: the one who was previously associated with your _fake_ son? Or the one who is currently seeing your _illegitimate_ son?”

Robert put down the ship – _in the wrong place_ – and grumbled: “Sansa, the ...hum... the older one.”

 

Deciding, against his better judgement, to indulge his brother some more, Stannis asked: “So what dangerous situation am I saving her from?”

 

 

. . . . . . .

 

 

Teeth grinding, a headache building after fifteen minutes into the conversation and Stannis still hadn’t made any head way, but he would not admit defeat.

His sense of duty - or as Robert described it, his ‘ _judgemental –duty-bound-moral –compass’ -_ did not include dressing like a penguin, being stiff and awkward for five hours whilst his brother made lewd comments about every woman under the age of fifty... Moreover, it definitely did not include spending time with a girl several years his junior to make even more a fool out of himself.

 

“Surely there are several men better suited?”

“I’ve already told you: there _isn’t_.”

“What about Renly?”

“Now that Renly has ‘come out’ it would apparently be bad form for him or Loras Tyrell to bid on her. It would look more like a pity bid than anything else. At least that’s what Renly explained to me.” – _So at least he had gone to Renly before me_...

“What about Miss Tyrell’s older brothers?”

“One is married and the other one... Let’s just say Ned is somewhat worried by his association with Oberyn Martell.”

 

Anther long pause.

 

“Come on Stan! Ned and I will pay for the whole thing: I’ve already paid for your seat at the auction and Ned says he will pay for the bidding itself, however much you require.”

But Stannis ignored him as he tried to remember as many people associated with the Stark family as possible. Thankfully another face popped up:

“What about Jon Snow?”

This time Robert looked at him like he was the complete idiot in the room: “Jon Snow is her _cousin_. It would be nearly as bad and tragic as if one of her brothers stepped in.”

 

Stannis grimaced and then returned to his thoughts.

“What about you?” – But even as Stannis said the words he knew Robert was a worse choice than himself for the task.

Robert burst out laughing: “Surely you can’t be serious. As such as I would love to be in the presence of such stunning girl, do you really think Ned would let me around his twenty-something year old daughter – especially one as gorgeous as her.” – The comment made Stannis wonder if she was a younger version of Robert’s first love, Lyanna Stark.

 

Unfortunately, before he could ask Robert, someone knocked at the door and Davos walked in. – _I’m saved_!

Turning to face the intrusion, Robert grin widened: “Ah! Walworth! Come help me convince my brother Stanny that he needs to go to a party tonight to help a lady in distress.”

Stannis grinded his teeth, both annoyed at the fact that Robert couldn’t remember people’s names and that he was actually trying to rope Davos in helping him in his stupid endeavour.

“ _Seaworth_... his name is Davos Seaworth.”

Robert momentarily frowned at him: “What?... Oh, yes: of course, that’s what I said... Anyway, Seaworth: Stan here needs a bit of persuading, and since the idea of spending a lovely evening with a gorgeous twenty-something, or even helping out his older brother, doesn’t seem to sway him, it seems that we need to call on your expertise.”

Looking straight at his friend with pleading eyes, Stannis replied: “I was just about to tell Robert that unfortunately I can't make it tonight. Because of that meeting with... Axell Florent.” – _Axell Florent!? Really? I couldn’t have thought of someone better_!

Until then Davos had just looked at the exchange between the two brothers, clearly trying to understand the situation. However, by now, he seemed to have understood. With a small smile on his face, he turned to Stannis: “Oh don’t worry Stannis, Florent just called to say he unfortunately had to cancel.” – _What the ***! Traitor_!

Whilst Stannis glared at Davos, Robert beamed: “Great! So that means that you are as free as a bird for the evening!”

 

Sinking into his chair, gritting his teeth in frustration, Stannis replied: “Fine, fine.... Are you sure there is _no one_ else?”

“I’m sure... I’ve checked.”

 

 

. . . . . . .

 

 

As Stannis stepped into the hotel’s ballroom, he was welcomed to the laughter from the crowd that was bubbling from every corner. Sighing he tried to lose some of his frustration and unease. This is a party. He was supposed to have a good time. – _At least that’s what Robert insisted tonight was about_.

Thinking of the devil, he scanned the room to try and find his wayward brother. He looked through glamour of the women in gowns and the men in tuxedos, most with a glass in their hand until, finally, he saw Robert.

– _Why am I not surprised_?

Annoyance built as he watched Robert, already at the bar, ordering a scotch, confirming the knowledge that this was going to be a long and tedious evening.

 

Deciding that actually he didn’t want to deal with his brother just yet, Stannis looked away as he tried unsuccessfully of adjust his collar a bit.

Thankfully he noticed the welcome board with table-indications on it. He was also unable to not also notice the beautiful auburn-haired woman who was managing the welcome table.

As he moved close to the board he unwittingly studied the woman: she was tall, definitely elegant in her dress, pale skin ... and as she turned in his direction, she wore the most captivating smile... and let’s not forget her curves in all the right places... – _Fucking Hells Stannis! Stop checking her out_!

Upon reaching her – and the table and poster-board – he was greeted with a smile... Being close to her, Stannis couldn’t help but think that there seemed to be something familiar about her; especially her stunning light blue eyes.

 

He was about to ask her name when she grinned at him.

Stannis felt his collar tighten a bit. – _Hells, I swear it was fine when I left the house_!

 

“Mr Baratheon... I-I mean S-Stannis, so nice of you to come. Robert had warned Margery that you would be attending, but I must confess we both found it hard to believe. Its great that you could prove us wrong.”

 _Great, she actually knows me, and I haven’t got a clue of her name... can’t really ask her now_...

Trying to smile – probably ending up with a award winning scowl - Stannis shifted a little: “Well, older brothers can be very persuasive.”

Her eyes sparkled with humour, as her grin widened: “I couldn’t agree more. Even younger siblings can be a pain sometimes.”

Stannis’ lip twitched as he thought fondly of the few times Renly and he had gone camping together: “Yes... but at least they are easier to manage.”

At the reply, his eyes met hers once more. She stared at him for quite a few moments making Stannis wonder if he had something on his face, before she coughed awkwardly and looked out to the room:

“Well, anyway, I should probably tell you a bit about the evening. At the moment, everyone is just arriving and socialising. It’s also the time for everyone to make bids for the silent auction...” Indicating several tables on the sides, which a few seemed to be converged around.

She turned back to face him and with a small smile she added: “There is a two-sail cruiser, which could possibly tempt you? Or a few rare first-editions, on Aegon the Conqueror, for Shireen?

 _Great: not only does she know me, but she knows me enough to know my sailing habits and about Shireen’s love of history_...

Oblivious to his self-admonishment, the woman continued: “...Then there will the dinner; your table is indicated on the board, right here. There will be a few speeches namely from Margery and large donors; though I don’t think Robert will be making one this year... “

Remembering the last time Robert made a speech at one of these parties, Stannis murmured: “Probably for the best.”

Flushing a bit – _clearly she is remembering the same incident_ – the young lady continued: “...and we will finish with the bachelorette auction, at the same time as dessert and coffee. After that, people are invited to dance and mingle some more. Do you have any questions for me, Stannis?” – _Your name_?... _Are you single_?

He thoughts going through his head, it took in a moment to realise that he still hadn’t answered her. Instead he was just staring into her expectant eyes.

 _Great, so much for first impressions... well, in this case, it’s not **really** first impressions, now is it_...

Feeling even more like a fool, Stannis was unable to save himself, when the woman noticed something to his right.

“Ahh- if you’ll excuse me Stannis, it would seem that Loras needs my assistance. Anyway, enjoy your evening if I don’t get a chance to see you again.”

 

As she moved away, Stannis couldn’t help but follow her movements till she reached the young Tyrell. And then he scowled at himself for the action.

Then, he chastised himself, remembering why he was actually here: _I am not here to leer at women, and become a second Robert. I am here for Eddard... for Eddard’s daughter... Even though I still have no idea what she looks like._

Straightening himself, he moved to the table the board indicated his seat was.

He then pondered on his objective: _She’s probably a younger version of Lyanna Stark. - Especially if Eddard does not want Robert to be included in the bidding._

 

His thoughts were inturputed when both Eddard Stark and his brother came to join him at the table.

Eddard greeted him with a smile: “Stannis, great that you could make it. Robert told me how you are willing to help us with a small situation. Thank you so much for steeping in, you are a true friend.”

Sitting down, the Stark man continued: “Gods, I still can’t believe Sansa let herself be roped into this... I know Margery easily persuades her to help with her numerous charities, but this is just taking it too far! Do they not realise all the old pervy men that just want to grope them?!”

Feeling a little uncomfortable by the fact that he had been eyeing a beautiful young woman not ten minutes ago, Stannis coughed and asked: “Can you remind me which is in fact ... Sansa? Maybe point her out...”

At the question, Robert gave a nod to a corner of the room. Turning to the indicated spot, Stannis noticed several young ladies, including Miss Tyrell and the beautiful red-head he had been talking to. However he did not notice any with the same dark hair as Eddard or Lyanna Stark.

With a smile, Eddard replied: “Oh, of course. She’s the one speaking to Loras Tyrell right now.”

 _Of course, bloody brilliant: it had to be the one I had been checking out earlier_.

Ignorant of Stannis’ thoughts, Ned continued with a sigh: “Yea...she has her mother’s looks, which is partially why I needed your help tonight: can deny that she is beautiful.” – _No, you definitely can’t_.

Next to Eddard, Robert put his drink down and grinned: “Oh come on Ned! Let the girl live a little!”

“Yes, but I rather she not ‘live’ near any old letches. On that note, it seems that Catelyn is trying to get my attention; someone needs to save her from Walder Frey.”

Standing back up, Eddard looked once more at Stannis: “Thank you again Stannis for doing this. And I’m sure Sansa will have a wonderful time on your date.”

 

Stannis raised his eyebrows at Eddard’s retreating form, before he turned and glared at Robert: “ _Date_?!”

Taking a rather large sip of his drink, Robert just continued being his cheery self: “Yes, _date_ ; that’s what you get what you get out of the evening: a date with the bachelorette you bid on. Come on, surely you know this?”

“Know this! How was I supposed to know? You didn’t tell me!”

“I thought you already knew. Why else would Ned be worried about other men bidding on his daughter?”

Teeth in full grinding mode, Stannis whispered-yelled at his brother: “I thought it was a _dance_! One dance! Not a whole bloody evening! And how else was I supposed to know, apart from you? I‘ve never actually been to one of these things before! And let’s not forget my idiot older brother only told me about this event today!”

“Well, if I had said anything earlier, it would just have given you time to change your mind.”

Not at all put off by his icy-glare, Robert scoffed: “Come on Stanny, be serious, some men pay a good few thousand for some of the young ladies... they would definitely expect more than just one lousy dance for that kind of money.”

“A few Thousand Dragons! People spend thousands of Dragons on this kind of auction! Has the world gone completely insane?!”

Robert nodded in agreement: “I know right. For that much, I would definitely expect a lot more from my date than just her company for a fancy-pants meal.”

 

At the comment, the image of Sansa Stark and him doing a lot more than dinner by candlelight appeared in his mind... To then prompt Stannis to scowl at his own depraved mind: “That’s not what I meant Robert.”

 

 

. . . . . . .

 

 

Stannis watched as Edmure Tully came up to join Roslin Frey up on stage.

“Gods, this is a mistake.”

Robert chuckled drunkenly next to him: “No it isn’t; it’s one of my most brilliant ideas.”

_That statement in itself proves how much of a bad idea this is._

Robert eyed him: “What if it was Shireen up there? Surely you wouldn’t want someone like that idiot Edmure Tully groping her? Or worse, someone like-”

“-your vile ex-son Joffey?”

Robert scowled at the mention of his ex-progeny: “I was going to say Bolton’s son, but yes _that_ boy would be worse as well.”

 

Their attention was called back to the podium, when, Miss Tyrell announced:

“Our next bachelorette is a beauty from the North. She loves to sing, shopping – with me – and all animals. Her love for cooking has brought her to Kings Landing, where she is currently working on her masters in culinary school. Please welcome Miss Stark Sansa.”

As Miss Stark made her way onto the stage, Stannis couldn’t help but stare, even when Robert murmured in his ear: “It’s your time to shine...”

Stannis gulped– _No, it’s definitely Miss Stark who is the bright shining light_...

 

Most of the first bids seemed to be from men from the North or from the Riverlands; those who probably actually knew the young lady, and with whom she might of had an enjoyable evening in their company.

In these, there were only a few men that Stannis recognises, namely Balon Greyjoy’s youngest and Jon Umber’s son. However both were soon outbid by the ‘high-rollers’ as Robert called them. Manderly’s grand-son was still in the running though.

Continuing to study the bidding, Stannis soon decided that he would only step in if Miss Stark would actually need his assistance. Even if she was probably the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen, he was only going to make a fool of himself, and force her into an evening with him, if, and only _if_ , she was in a dire situation.

 

The bid escalated until it seemed that Manderly was going to win with a thousand Dragons, and Stannis was ready to let him, when Bolton’s son spoke up, making Stannis gritt his teeth. Stannis silently wondered where the dark haired man had found the funds to bid ’3 000 Dragons‘- _Not from anywhere savoury, no doubt..._

Thankfully, Bolton was out bid by Tyrion Lannister. “3.5”

 

Stannis silently regarded the youngest Lannister. Tyrion Lannister had done a few bad judgement calls in his late-teens but was now a T.A. for Maester Aemon at the Citadel. Sure he didn’t have the most agreeable physique and let’s not forget that he was actually related to Tywin Lannister, but one should probably not hold those against him. She could do much worse.

Stannis was about to bow out – even before he had been able to make a fool of himself – when Petyr Baelish decided to speak up: “5 000.”

 _Yep_ – She could do much worse. Petyr Baelish worse.

At the bid, Stannis couldn’t help but notice Eddard’s pale complexion and hand gripping his drink, two tables down. Robert had reported on several occasion of how Baelish had been obsessed with Eddard’s wife when they were younger. This made Stannis wonder why he was surprised that the letch seemed to have shifted his interest to the daughter... and that it had taken him this long into the bidding to make himself known....

Actually thinking, about it, this would be exactly how Littlefinger worked: let other’s start the works, get their hopes up, see who his true adversaries were, before he would swoop in for the kill.

Teeth clenched, Stannis nearly growled: “7 500 Dragons.”

 

As the words involuntarily came out of his mouth, he noticed more than half the room turn towards him with great interest, looking at him with a mix of shock and curiosity. Gazes shifted between Robert and him, as if they were wondering if they might have actually heard his older brother.

Even Miss Tyrell seemed to be a little taken back, and had lost some of her known confidence-cool: “Umm... Well we have a new bidder... Mr _S-Stannis_ Baratheon... with an impressive 7 500 Dragons.”

Robert was the only one who just looked like he was having the time of his life, smiling at everyone, and giving Stannis a large pat on the back, as if he had done a monumental task. Stannis, for himself, could only feel the gaze of the beautiful woman still on stage.

During the awkward pause, Petyr Baelish looked sceptically at Stannis, before coughing –bringing back attention to the auction and himself – and turning his head to Margery Tyrell and Sansa Stark: “8 000 Dragons.“

Ramsay Bolton, clearly not liking the three new bidders, and not having Baelish’s composure, growled: “10 000 Dragons.“

Lannsiter, on the other hand, seemed to find the whole thing very entertaining, and replied with a large grin on his face: “10.5“

Not deterred Baelish replied: “12 000.“

The bid continued for a little longer without Stannis needing to bring attention to himself, till it was between Tyrion Lannister and Petyr Baelish. Baelish put in a higher bid of ‘18 000 Dragons’ and Tyrion was about to reply, when Stannis heard Robert’s phone beep:

“Ned just texted me saying: ‘ _I don’t care what I have to pay, just as long as that Little-‘star’-‘star’-‘star’-‘star’ doesn’t get to touch one hair on my daughter’s head_!’ ...hahaha- ahhh Ned, even in a text he can’t say the word ‘ _shit’_.”

In the background you could hear Lannister saying '19 000' and Baelish countering with '20 000 Dragons'.

Turning his amused face from the screen to Stannis, Robert challenged him: “So are you going to go get your lovely (smoking hot twenty-something) lady, or are you going to leave her into the hands of Baelish?”

However by the time the question was asked, Stannis was only half paying attention. His mind was more focused on the image of Petyr Baelish looming over Miss Stark, his hands slowly descending down to her hips...-

-“40 000 Dragons!”

 

It was only when Miss Tyrell banged on her gavel twice and said “Congratulations to Mr Stannis Baratheon for winning a date with the lovely Miss Sansa Stark, for a whooping 40 000 Dragons!”That Stannis realised what he had just done.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2 - A Lady’s Favour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa getting roped into something she definitely does not want to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a little more trouble with this Chapter/ POV than the last one (mainly by the fact that Robert-Sannis conversations are always soo fun to write). Hope you are still able to enjoy. :)

 

 

“Margery, No! No, I won’t do it!”

Months ago, when Margery had said ‘ _charity’_ , Sansa had been more than happy to volunteer, ready to help out as best she could for the Orphans of Kings Landing. She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy, especially with Margery organising the event. – Unfortunately it what only this morning, upon studying the program that she had realised her mistake.

 

“Oh come on, Sansa: tone down on the terror factor, it’s not like I’m asking you to help me kill someone and then dump the body... Although for that as well you are my go-to girl.”

Sansa frowned at the random change in conversation: “ _What_?”

“You know... everyone has that one friend that they would call if they accidentally - or not accidentally - killed someone. That one friend who would help them cover it up. For example: if I accidental killed my boyfriend by poisoning him with my horrible cooking, I would call you and you would help me make it look like he choked on his slice of pie or something...”

Sansa looked at her friend in a mix of horror and bewilderment, confused as to what to say: “Wh...wha... hum: I think you need to find a new best friend.”

Then remembering the real topic of the conversation, Sansa shook her head, erasing any mental images of Margery and her hovering over her ex Joffrey’s dead body:

“Actually, better yet: _I_ need to find a new best friend. I can’t believe you tricked me into being part of this ... this ‘Rich-men Perv Fest!’”

Margery gave a snort: “It’s hardly a ‘perv fest’; it’s an auction... for charity! Just think of all the orphans you will be helping out!”

“Yes it’s for charity, and I’m always ready to help out for one of your philanthropic activities. When you asked for a favour I said 'yes', but I definitely wouldn't have if you had explained _**all**_   of what the evening consisted in. This is going too far! Surely I could be just helping out back-stage... or organising decorations... or the caterers...”

Margery looked at her as if she were a child: “You are welcome to help with all of those activities as well, but the priority is you being on that stage, flaunting what the Old and New Gods gave you.”

Sighing, Margery insisted: “Sansa do you not realise how much money we could make just off you?!”

Sansa frowned: “You make me sound like some kind of hooker. If you want one of those, call Chataya’s Agency...”

But Margery waved off the comment: “You are going to be a high prize at the event! You haven’t been seen with anyone for nearly three years! And let’s not forget the icing on the cake: now everyone knows Joffrey isn’t even a Baratheon, it confirms even more that you were _waaaayyyy_ too good for him and were right to dump his sorry ass.”

Marg continued, picking up the program from the table, to help her make her point: “In any case it’s too late, the invites were sent out weeks ago, with the attached program, and the evening is in _three_ days. Three days! I can’t just go and change the order of things just because you are scared of spending one evening with some old fart. I would change the whole structure of the Bachelorette Auction, and I would need to find a suitable replacement – as if there is a gorgeous woman out there that meets my standards, who I haven’t already picked - and let’s not mention the re-ordering I would have to go through with my Bachelorettes... it would mess up everything!”

“Why can’t you ask Loras to take my place? – It would give a small twist to the auction.”

“Sansa be serious: you know how stuck-up most of these people are! Only Oberyn Martell and his lover would probably bid on Loras. Anyhow, I don’t think Renly would approve. Loras told me that apparently all Baratheon men get jealous and possessive, not just Robert.” Shaking her head, Margery tut-ted: “Such an unappealing trait.”

 

Ignoring her commentary on Loras relationship with Renly, Sansa shook her own head: “I’m not doing it Margery! I am not getting on that stage so people like Walder Frey and Doctor Pycelle can ogle a woman fifty years their junior.”

 

 

. . . . . . . . .

 

 

_I can’t believe I am here_... Sansa groaned as she stood next to the Welcome booth, three days later.

 

But then again how could she really be surprised: Margery always got what she wanted. She was Olenna Tyrell’s favourite grandchild and her grandmother had trained her young Padawan well: Margery could probably sell gold to Tywin Lannister.... well, ok, maybe _not_ TywinLannister, but close enough.

Looking across the room, she noticed one of her other friends. - _At least Jeyne Poole is also participating._

 

Sighing, feeling a little defeated, Sansa turned her attention once more to the general appearance of the room and the Welcome Booth, making sure everything was going well and that the table and board where perfect – definitely not avoiding Margery... or worrying about the Bachelorette Auction –. Of course it was only when her nerves had finally set some-what that she spied Ramsay Bolton at the far end of the room.

_Fuck! What the Fuck is he doing here!... Who am I kidding: good old Daddy Bolton was probably able to get seats through dad... Which reminds me: really need to talk to dad about how he and Robb choose their business partners_...

 

With an even more forced smile, she turned in the other direction before he noticed her.

Back turned to Ramsay Bolton, she noticed that Renly Baratheon’s older brother was walking towards her.

\- _Great... and now I even lost by bet with Margery! Well it goes to show that Robert B wasn’t having a mental break down when he told us the serious brother was coming. I still wouldn’t believe it if he wasn’t walking towards me right now..._

It had definitely been a surprise to both Margery and herself when Robert had called to reserve a seat for his brother a few days prior. Stannis Baratheon always looked uncomfortable, out of place at parties; as if he would rather be anywhere else. And he definitely did not seem to approve of this party either, going by the scowl on his face.

Which also posed another question: _...why is he walking towards me_?

 

She quickly tried to remember a previous event where they had talked, or possibly even sat next to each other. Unfortunately her mind drew a blank.

This further supported her theory that Stannis didn’t actually want to talk to her, but instead probably wanted to tell one of the organisers of the evening off for some unknown health and safety law that they were violating.

Trying to relax, calming herself, she decided to study the man as he continued to walk towards her. – Preparing herself for a possible disagreement.

Like his brothers, Stannis was a large man - tall, broad shouldered and sinewy. Even though Sansa knew she was tall for a woman, she couldn’t help but notice that Stannis had definitely a good extra-head above her own. He was certainly wasn’t unattractive; however he didn’t have Renly’s handsomeness. More of a rugged look - even clean shaven - that made Sansa think he would definitely look more in his element in a mountaineering jacket, walking through the trees – or maybe wrestling a shadowcat – than in his tuxedo. Not that he didn’t look good in the tux; on the contrary, Stannis B definitely filled out his tuxedo, confirming his family wealth, but it was not ostentatious like his brothers’. The sharp-straight cut went with his no-nonsense persona.

 

It was only when she greeted him, and his response being that his usual frown changed to surprise that it was clear that she had definitely not been the objective of his stride.

\- _Gods Sansa, he doesn’t give two shits about you, he was eyeing the Welcome table and board... Stannis Baratheon: always needs to be ready in any given situation... probably already knows where all the emergency exits are_.

 

As they spoke a little more, Sansa was pleasantly surprised by Stannis’ dry humour and then how much he actually seemed to care about his brothers – well, Renly at least. That’s when Sansa truly noticed his dark-eye blues. They flickered as he seemed to remember a small anecdote with his younger brother. Studying them and his face more closely, Sansa felt like those two deep pools of blue seemed to be the very centre of a storm, the only thing that was truly alive in the man. There was power in his stare, a ferocity, which sent an unsettling thrill down Sansa’s spine.

Of course, it was after that moment passed that Sansa realised she had just been staring at him, not saying anything, for quite a long pause. However, he did not comment, instead Stannis looked somewhat bored, probably just waiting for her to inform him of all the relevant information about the evening.

Clearing her throat, trying to hide her embarrassment, Sansa started explaining the evening, before remembering Shireen and how the shy girl had once had a whole discussion with her about the Dance of Dragons, at the Baratheon picnic. She had also told Sansa about her farther’s love of sailing... or maybe Renly had told her of that. In any case, might as well do a bit of promotion for the silent auction – it’s not like Stannis Baratheon would participate on the other auction of the evening:

“...There is a two-sail cruiser, which could possibly tempt you? Or a few rare first-editions, on Aegon the Conqueror, for Shireen?”

Unfortunately Stannis didn’t seem to bite at the suggestions; instead he gave her another quizzical expression.

Undeterred, Sansa continued explaining the evening until he made another amusing comment about his older brother, reminding Sansa of the anecdote: Robert Baratheon had been so drunk during a company dinner that he had started enumerating his top ten women in the middle of his speech.

She then quickly finished her explanation and asked if he had any questions, however it seemed that it was now Stannis’ turn to study her, as he just stayed quiet next to her not answering the question.

During this time, she noticed Loras waving at her.

“Ahh- if you’ll excuse me Stannis, it would seem that Loras needs my assistance. Anyway, enjoy your evening if I don’t get a chance to see you again.”

Stannis only gave her a curt nod, shifting a tiny bit to the side, enabling her to move away. – _Gods, I bet he really just wanted me to leave... Just waiting for me to fuck-off so he could look at the board with some peace and quiet_...

 

Reaching, Loras, he gave her a sympathetic smile: “Saw you with Stanny-B, and thought you might need some rescuing. Didn’t want him to bore you to death.”

With a quick smile, Sansa replied: “Oh Stannis was fine. He actually made a one or two funny comments about his older brother. Though, to be honest, he looked like he was probably getting bored of _me_.”

Loras raised his eyebrows in disbelief: “Seriously?... No way: who could ever be bored being in your gorgeous presence?”

“I only speak the truth: I gave him the whole bla-bla-shebang about the evening; he barely said ten words to me, just ended up staring down at me until I left him alone.” – _Of course I won’t mention how I first started the staring context by looking into his gorgeous blue eyes... wait what: gorgeous?... where did that come from_?

Loras shook his neck, unimpressed: “It’s not your fault, he was probably dreaming about spreadsheets whilst you were talking.”

With a grin, Loras then joked: “Imagine he was actually concentrating on controlling himself, trying to stop himself from jumping you.”

Sansa rolled her eyes: “Yea right, I think there would be more chance of Renly or you jumping me...”

“I’m definitely not denying the fact that, if you put your mind to it, you might just make us bi – think how fun that could be” Loars added with a wink, before continuing: “But, this actually proves my point further: if anyone would convert Stanny-B back to the living it would be you.”

With a triumphant grin he then added: “Aaannd to prove my point, right on target: don’t look now but he’s watching us, or more specifically _you_.”

From the corner of her eye, Sansa noticed that Loars was right, however: “Come on Loras, he’s sitting with Robert and my dad. Dad probably said some silly childhood anecdote about me, and Stannis automatically looked over.”

“Ahhh... but, as you studiously accepted, he _did_ look over.”

 

 

. . . . . . . .

 

 

Not soon after Edmure Tully took Roslin Frey’s hand and guided her off stage, Margery announced the next bachelorette: _her_.

 

Legs shaking, hands sweating, ears buzzing, heart racing, Sansa moved slowly up the steps and onto the stage.

Stepping forward she gave a shy smile, but was too nervous to do anything else – no waving, no twirling, no posing... just standing there like a bloody idiot.

... _Gods, this was a mistake_.

 

It seemed like there was the longest pause before anyone started to bid, which made Sansa worry that maybe no one would actually bid on her, and she would end up being asked to remove herself from the stage.

Or, noticing the old creeps grin, only Walder Frey bid on her, and she would only make twenty Dragons. – _Oh My Old Gods...That would actually be ten times worse_...

Finally, feeling as if a million years had passed, someone called out: “Fifty Dragons!” – looking at the far end of the room, she noted that it was Small Jon who had started the bidding. Sansa let out the breath she had been holding as relief ran through her.

 

It did comfort her a tiny bit when the first few bids were from men she actually knew and had been, for the most part, a few years above her in school. – _Old prey old men just yet... yeaay..._

As the bidding continued, Sansa felt a small disappointed when Small Jon had been out bid, but she had guessed he wouldn’t have enough compared to some of the others. On the other hand she was relieved when Theon couldn’t continue. – _Definitely way to handsy_... remembering her prom.

Unfortunately her relief was short lived when Ramsay continued to out bid Wendel Manderly. Wendel – like the rest of his family – was a bit on the chubby side, but Sansa knew that she would have a great time on a date with him: they would probably end up going to some fancy restaurant and order lots of starters, then the lobsters, and then have a tray of deserts. - Hey she would be happy if he just brought her a tray full of lemon tarts. - As for Ramsay... she knew that she would have a dreadful time, not even wanting to imagine what kind of fucked up evening he would have planned for a date with her.

Thankfully Tyrion stepped in, her (small) knight in shining armour. He had always been very nice to her, even since her break-up with Joffrey. Plus it didn’t hurt that she knew he was secretly dating Shae, and he was probably only participating in the auction to annoy his father... or hopefully to save her from Ramsay.

The real horror occurred when freaking Petyr Baelish felt the need to bid! – _For fuck sake, surely he realises that as one of my boss’s bosses, at the Landing Times, this is clearly inappropriate_...

In any case, even though he was a friend of her mom and crazy Aunt Lysa, she always felt a little uncomfortable around him. It didn’t give her any relief that Dad definitely did not like him either.

 

Though her thoughts were soon interrupted by an even more shocking denouement to the evening, the next bid: Stannis Baratheon! _What the fuck!..._

Earlier she had definitely been surprised to see him attend. But she supposed he would just bid on the silent auction, or just be there to make sure Robert wouldn’t get too drunk. But him actually participating in the Bachelorette Auction! Bidding on her! – _WTF?!... Shit!... Was Loras right_?

He actually seemed surprised by it himself. Or maybe it was just that he wasn’t scowling... and the fact that everyone seemed to be staring at him.

 

Unfortunately, Stannis didn’t seem deter Petyr Baelish. After giving Stannis a quizzical look, he returned to his charming swarmy smile back to her and spoke with confidence: “8 000 Dragons.“

As the auction continued, it soon came down to only Tyrion and Baelish. Nevertheless, Sansa couldn’t help but notice Stannis’ steely gaze sealed on the Baelish as his scowl depended. He looked at the creep as if he was his true enemy, and he was just waiting for the best moment to strike a second time.

With the look of determination mixed in with the scowl, she was reminded of what she had once heard Tywin Lannister say about the man: “ _Stannis Baratheon is the sort of man that will fight to the bitter end and then some_.”

Another thrill ran down her spine: _Does that mean he would fight for me, until I am his?... Hum... I mean that he would continue to bid until he won the date with me_?

 

That is when she saw him open his mouth and actually growl: “Forty Thousand Dragons!”

 

 

. . . . . . .

 

 

Sansa came off the stage, and went behind the curtain, still in a bit of a daze... _Forty ... Forty THOUSAND!... Seriously!?_

Margery came in just behind her beaming: “I told you we would make a fortune on you! Forty Thousand!! If I wasn’t so happy I might actually be a little jealous.”

Still a little pale... and trying to understand what had just happened, Sansa mumbled: “Stannis Baratheon bid Forty Throusand Dragons... for... for a date with me?”

“I know! Isn’t that so exciting! Renly told me once that Stannis had a huge thing for Red-heads. Apparently he once nearly converted to a new-religion because of some crazy red-head who liked to make bonfires!”

With a wink Margery then added, “Maybe you’ll be able to convince him to pray to the Old Gods... going down on his knees and thanking them profusely for the gorgeous woman they bough to him... After you go down on _your_ knees for him, of course.”

Sansa blushed, as she scolded her friend: “Margery... don’t be so crude, it’s just a date!”

Margery: “Yea and the guy paid forty big ones for this _date_. I think he will expect a little more than a soft peck on the cheek for that.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3 - A Proffered Favour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D-Day: Date Day - [A week after the Auction]

 

 

_Tap, tap, tap_

 

Stannis repeatedly drummed his pen against the note pad, going over the timetable he had planned, correcting any possible flaw.

_‘1 – 16:45 - Pick up the ordered blue roses from **Highgarden Flowers.** ’_

After re-reading the first line, he quickly crossed out the ‘ _1_.’ And added a line above the already written words:

_‘1 - 16:00 - Go home shower and change into the picked out suit._

_Additional Notes:_

   _\- Confirmed with E. Stark: Miss Stark prefers the colour blue– should go for the blue tie, not the green._ ’

 

Unfortunately, it was then that he remembered Davos’ earlier comment about a tie being _superfluous_ , and also saying something about _‘trying to look more relaxed.’_

 

Frowning he crossed out the last line he had read, and replaced it with:

‘ _No tie; first button of shirt to be left open._ ’

 

He then continued to proof-read his schedule:

_~~‘1~~ 2 - ~~16:45~~ 17:00 - Pick up the ordered blue roses from **Highgarden Flowers.** ’_

‘ _ ~~2~~ 3 – 17:30 – Pick up Miss Stark from her flat._

_Additional Note:_

_Address in Contact Details; Lives with Miss Tyrell – Try to keep polite greeting to a minimum._

_Remember to take flowers from the car and present to her at her flat.’_

 

‘ _ ~~3~~ 4 – 17:45 – Latest to leave Miss Stark and Miss Tyrell’s flat.’_

 

_‘ ~~4~~ 5 – 18:15 - 18:30 – Arrive at the restaurant._

_Additional Notes:_

_Ask about her day or about basic likes and dislikes during car ride._

_If arrive at the restaurant early, ask if would like a drink at the bar.’_

 

He had just finished reading the second additional note when Stannis realised a grave error in his planning: his meeting with Tywin Lannister! – The meeting started at 14:30 but knowing the older man, the meeting would go on for the rest of the afternoon. – _Just great, my whole schedule depends on Tywin freakin' Lannister!_

 

Frowning, Stannis picked up his phone and dialled Davos’ extension.

_\- “Seaworth speaking.”_

“Davos. I might have a problem for the meeting this afternoon with Lannister.”

_\- “What’s wrong?”_

“I might have to leave early to... hum... pick up the flowers for Miss Stark, and to go home and change.”

A strange sound that Stannis was unable to indentify was heard from the other end before Davos suggested: _“Why don’t you have the flowers delivered to her office? And you could ask Miss Stark to meet you at your house; I’m sure if you explained the situation she would understand.”_

Index finger rubbing his temple Stannis acquiesced: “Fair enough on the request to meet at mine, even though it’s rather un-gentlemanly. On the other hand: for the flowers, wouldn’t she **not** want to receive them at the office?”

\- _“Why not? It would add an extra something to her desk.”_

Stannis wanted to retort that it would add possible unwanted clutter and attention, not to mention the fact that it would be a _dead_ item that would be added to her desk. However, since he did not have the time to argue on the matter, Stannis sighed:

“Fine, I will call Miss Stark to rearrange our meeting point, but would you mind asking Massey to phone **_Highgarden Flowers_ ** and correcting the delivery address of the order... and probably ask him to have them delivered not too late in the afternoon, and with a card.”

This time re could definitely hear Davos’ smile as he replied: _“Of course, will get right on it.”_

 

He looked through his contacts, till he finally found ‘Sansa Stark’. With a little trepidation Stannis pressed the **‘ _call’_** button.

After a couple rings a voice but questioning voice answered: - “ _Hello...Stannis?”_

Feeling a little awkward, Stannis cleared his dry throat: “Hm... Good Morning, Miss Sta-Sansa. I am sorry to bother you at work but I have just realised that my afternoon meeting will unfortunately be quite time-consuming. I know this isn’t very courteous on my part, but I was wondering if it was at all possible for us to meet at my house, instead of me picking you up at your flat? I wouldn’t ask this normally, however the meeting is with a rather demanding client, who is unfortunately quite an important one as well.”

He heard relief when she answered: - “ _Oh... Of course, of course. Don’t worry about it, that’s not a problem at all. Could you please give me your address? Also, what time should I arrive?”_

“Thank you for your understanding Sansa. My address is 21 Dragon Hill, in the Iron Gate area. Could you please come around 17:30?”

_\- “O-of course, 17:30 is perfect. See you then Stannis.”_

“Thank you again, and see you this evening Miss Stark.”

 

Hanging up for the second time, Stannis looked down at the schedule and frowned realising that, with all the adjustments, it would definitely be a mess. – _Great, will have to start again..._

 

He was tempted to re-start on his computer but thought against it as he did not want a trace of this ‘date schedule’ lying around for someone to find (- the note pages would of course be burnt after their utility complete).

As he started to re-write the schedule, Stannis was reminded of the different ‘events’ leading to each of the elements of said timetable.

 

_‘1 - 16:30 - Go home shower and change into the picked out suit._

_Additional Notes: No tie, first button to leave open._ ’

 

. . . . . . . . .

**Flashback 1 – The Suit _– [two days after the Auction]_**

 

When his house keeper, Mrs Cressen, came on Sunday, Stannis was puzzled to find that her more agitated than usual. Well, ‘ _agitated_ ’ might not be the correct word: _animated_?

He soon found out why: she had ‘heard’ about the ‘Forty Thousand Dragon Date’ – or more likely had read all about it the social column the next morning.

 

“Oh Mr Baratheon, you will have to warn me on when you plan on taking the lovely Miss Sansa Stark on your famous date, so I can have your best suit ready.”

Stannis frowned: “Excuse me?”

“Your best suit, the dark blue one, I will need to re-press and re-iron the shirt, the jacket and trousers. Need to make sure everything is perfect.”

“Surely that won’t be necessary. I will just wear one that has been pressed recently, no need for you to spend time-”

“-Oh, it’s no trouble at all. In any case, Miss Stark is part of the ‘Fabrics and Fashion Column’ of **_The_ _Landing Times_** ; she’ll appreciate a lot more the dark blue suit. Not to mention, it makes your eyes stand out.”

 

At the response, Stannis had just stood there for a good minute, mouth slightly ajar. - _It makes my eyes stand out_?

 

. . . . . . . . .

 

 

‘ _2 – 17:30 –Miss Stark’s arrival._

 _Additional Note:_ _Ask about the flowers. Offer a beverage.’_

 

‘ _3 – 17:45 – Latest to leave the house with Miss Stark.’_

 

_‘4 – 18:15 - 18:30 – Arrive at the restaurant_

_Additional Notes:_

_Ask about her day or about basic likes and dislikes during car ride._

_If arrive at the restaurant early, ask if would like a drink at the bar.’_

 

 

. . . . . . . . .

**Flashback 2 – Part 1 of the Date: the Flowers and the Dinner _– [three days after the Auction]_**

 

 

Robert’s large presence swinging the door open and his deafening voice interrupted his morning meeting with Davos:

“Well, no one can say you don’t take a favour seriously.”

Before he slammed a newspaper above Stannis’ work, knocking off a few of his desk items onto the floor.

Knowing there was no point in trying to get Robert to leave, Stannis merely scowled and asked Davos to come back later. Thankfully, Davos gave only gave both brothers as well as the paper a curious glance before he left and closed the door.

 

Looking down at what exactly Robert had thumped on his desk, he read: ‘ ** _Stannis Baratheon doesn’t do half measures_** ’

A few pictures were below, including one of the Miss Stark’s auction bid, and one of the two of them dancing later in the evening.

 

Not bothering to read any of the article, Stannis looked up at his brother who had an expectant look on his face. Closing his eye, rubbing his temple, Stannis sighed: “What do you want Robert?”

“Come on, I want to know how the rest of your evening with the lovely Miss Stark went? And what do you have planned for this ' _Forty Thousand Dragon Date'_?”

“Since you were at the event, you should already know: we briefly talked, had one dance together, and nothing more. As for the date, I am at a complete loss and I blame that all on you.”

Robert frowned: “What is there to worry about: just reserve a table at _King’s Gate Hotel_ and one of the suites, just in case.”

Stannis scowl deepened: “Should I remind you that this is a date with Eddard Stark’s _daughter_ that you imposed on me as a favour for your _best_ friend.”

Robert straightened himself looking somewhat contrite: “Hum... right you are; maybe not the suite then.”

“Yes, maybe **not** the suite.”

 

After a moment of reflection, Robert clapped his hands together: “Take her hunting! Imagine it: just the two of you in the woods, away from everything and everyone.”

Stannis stared at his brother, and questioned him sarcastically: “Hunting?... Yes, I’m sure Miss Stark would love witnessing me kill a poor defenceless creature... Or, better yet: shoot the deer herself. - Nonetheless, I don’t think anything involving a gun is a good idea for a date.”

Robert huffed: “Fine no hunting... or a shooting range. What about camping?”

“What if she doesn’t like the wilderness? There is also the risk that the weather is not agreeable.”

“For fuck sake Stannis: she’s a Stark, a little rain won’t make her melt.”

“Yes, but she is not Eddard Stark. In any case, I don’t think he would appreciate me sharing a tent with his daughter, isolated from civilisation.”

“What about going to a club? It’s always a popular choice for a night out for the young crowd.”

“Great, so I can definitely stand out, feel like the old pervert with a woman a decade younger than him. And I definitely do not have any desire of pushing my way through a sea of sweaty bodies or have to yell at her over God-awful music to have a basic conversation.”

_..._

“Golfing?”

“I don’t think Miss Stark has the same appreciation as you and your golf buddies have of the Country Club, so if we went we would probably have to actually _golf_ : a sport that I have no knowledge of.”

Robert groaned: “Gods you are picky.”

“It’s called being prepared.”

Sighing in resignation, Robert added: “Well the only thing I will say then is: a meal is always a good ending... And get her a bunch of blue roses. Pretty sure they originate from the North. Lyanna, for one, loved them; freakin' Targaryen even gave her a bouquet when I was still bloody dating her!”

 

. . . . . . . .

 

 

_‘5 –20:15 – Ask for bill_

_Additional Note: make sure Miss Stark has completed her meal before. Ask if wants coffee._

_‘6 – 20:30 – Latest to leave restaurant’_

_‘7 – 20:45 – Arrive at the Royal Opera House’_

_Additional Notes: Make sure have tickets._

 

. . . . . . . .

**Flashback 3 – Part 2 of the Date: the Ballet _– [At the Auction]_**

 

 

Not long after the Bachelorette auction had ended – after several people came to ‘congratulate’ him - Stannis found Miss Stark, to be able to speak with her a little more before any possible date was planned. Unfortunately they had barely spoken a couple of words before Petyr Baelish inserted himself in their conversation. So instead of having a somewhat awkward tete-a-tete with Miss Stark, he had to listen to the creep standing a bit too closely to Miss Stark and listening to him drawl on:

“[...] yes and it seems that some people aren’t above using their family name and fortune to get what they want.”

If Miss Stark had not been there, Stannis wouldn’t of mind of telling him where he could go shove himself. Fortunately his younger brother and Loras Tyrell arrived at the moment, with Renly answering:

“Yes, while others try worming their way into places high above their station, or gaining money through questionable means. I think it’s better honest and direct than scheming through the back door.”

Not letting the man answer, Mr Tyrell turned to Stannis: “Stannis, why don’t you take Sansa for a spin on the dance floor?”

He looked expectantly at the young lady. Gratefully Miss Sansa gave him a shy smile and nodded: “I would love to.”

Approval received, he presented her with his arm, and took her away from a angry looking Petyr Baelish and smugg looking Renly and Loras Tyrell.

 

It was only when they reached the dance floor that he felt her shoulders relax somewhat. Stannis took her hand in his, and placed his other on her shoulder blade below her arm. – Definitely not any lower, he wasn’t bloody Robert. At any rate, he couldn’t well forget how all of this started: Eddard called in a favour so that his daughter would not be groped by some old sleaze.

As much as he did not like parties, thankfully this was one of those moments where all those ‘gentleman lessons’ his mother had insisted all her sons follow were paying off.

As they glided through the crush of dancers, Stannis was impressed by her footing. Then again, with Catelyn Stark as her mother, Stannis shouldn’t have been surprised of how accomplished Miss Stark was. Still, his own mother’s lessons were brought once more to the forefront of his mind: a compliment was in order: “You are a very competent dancer, Miss Stark.”

Looking up at him, she blinked a few times before he noticed her cheeks change to an agreeable tinge of pink. “Thank you... and please call me Sansa, I think you’ve paid enough for the privilege- hum... what I meant was that I think we know enough for you to call me by my first name.”

After an awkward pause and Stannis giving her a nod, she then added: “You definitely have a few moves of your own... hum, I mean, you are a skilled dancer as well.”

Stannis gave a self-conscious cough and another nod in means of thanks before explaining his own proficiency: “The praise should go to my mother: she insisted that all Baratheons needed to take ballroom dancing lessons. I started when I was seven and had to continue till my late teens.”

With a small smile, she asked: “Does that mean that you can do the Tango and the Rumba?”

Not understanding her special interest in those two dances, Stannis merely confirmed: “We learnt all the ballroom dances – the Waltz, the Viennese Waltz, the Foxtrot, the Quickstep, the Samba, the Cha-cha-cha, the Paso Doble, the Jive ... and yes, of course, the Rumba and the Tango.”

Noticing her expression turn slightly amused, Stannis stiffly added: “Though I feel that I must point out that they are not my favourite. I much prefer the waltz or the foxtrot.

“Such a shame, I have always loved the Tango. Would have been nice to dance it with such a proficient dancer.”

An image of Miss Stark’s gorgeous body moving sensually against his own clouded his mind. Regaining his senses, before he made a fool of himself – well more of a fool than he had already done – Stannis gruffly asked: “Is it your preferred dance?”

As she thought over the question, Miss Sansa bit her lower lip, bringing his gaze momentarily on her mouth. Thankfully the action did not last long, allowing his eyes to once more meet hers: “To be completely honest, I have always favoured ballet to ballroom dancing. I started ballet lessons when I was barely four – after endless days of pestering dad – and have loved it ever since.” She beamed at him, her blue eyes sparkling, making Stannis momentarily forget the next step of the dance.

 

They did another twirl, before she added, her face falling a fraction: “I was so disappointed when I realised I could never continue professionally.”

Stannis frowned, annoyed for her: “Why ever not? You most certainly have the grace and coordination required.”

Her cheeks went rosy once more, when she replied: “Thank you. Unfortunately, there are more requirements than just technique and agility.”

Stannis raised his eyebrows in question, noticing this Miss Sansa further explained, her cheeks going beyond the tinge of pink to a red: “I... my physique isn’t suitable for such a career... Hum... I am too well-endowed in certain areas to conform.”

At the explanation, Stannis’ eyes movement automatically to the mention area. – _Yes, definitely **not** flat-chested_.

He then instantly realised his action, and shifted his gaze back to an appropriate part of her body: her face. – _Stay at the face, do not look below the neck_!

Thankfully humour and not disgust appeared on the young lady’s face. Nor did she comment on the inappropriate depraved action. Instead, she merely further added: “But maybe it’s for the best. I can still enjoy watching a whole performance, and not have bloodied feet by the end of it. Plus I was able to concentrate more on my singing.”

 

 

. . . . . . . .

 

 

_‘8 – 23:00 – Leaving the Royal Opera House’_

_Additional Notes: Ask if interested in continuing the evening.’_

 

_‘ 9 – 23:05 - Possible walk along the waterfront_

_Additional Notes: Talk about the ballet performance._

_(+ find out her thoughts on sailing)’_

 

. . . . . . . .

 

**Flashback 4 – Scrapped idea for Date: _– [four days after the Auction]_**

 

“Sailing might not be the best idea for a first date.”

 

Not even bothering to correct Davos for the thousandth time that this was not to be a _first_ date but an _only_ date, Stannis frowned: “Why not? What is wrong with sailing?”

Picking up the ‘ ** _Date Suggestions Book_ ’** he had purchased the day before, he persevered: “This book writes ‘ _Tip number 7: Add a bit of originality to the date. – i.e.: something that would make it more personal_ ’.

Stannis started grinding his teeth when he noticed that Davos was trying to hold back a laugh as he replied: “Yes but I think it was also to do with _her_ tastes. What if Miss Stark has never been sailing or she has and hated it? – What would you do then? - And let’s more discount the possibility that she gets sea-sickness. I don’t think either of you would appreciate it if the date move in that direction.”

Headache growing, Stannis sunk in his chair, resigned: “Fine.”

“I would also say anything that involves animals might be best for a future date. You wouldn’t want the success of the whole thing to be dependent of a third party.”

“True.”

 

. . . . . . . .

 

Stannis was about to add the final two lines to the ‘ _date’s timetable_ ’ when his office phone rang.

 

Briefly looking at the clock at indicated it was 12:40 – lunch hour for most - Stannis wondered who would be calling him now:

“Stannis Baratheon speaking.”

“Mr Baratheon, Shireen’s teacher would like to speak with you, shall I put her through?”

A small sense of worry descended as he replied: “Yes Massey, please do.”

 

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

 

 _Chicken Pox! Not the flu_!

 

What a bunch of incompetent educators! How could they not tell the difference between a common cold and the chicken pox? Surely that should be a requirement in their chosen profession, especially when being surrounded by so many young children... taking the responsibility of taking care of other people’s children. And what kind of a parent would be stupid enough to let a sick child come to school?!

Stannis had just returned from an emergency trip to the paediatrician after the school had informed them that there had been an ‘outbreak of the flu’ at the school. Unfortunately for the school but fortunately for Shireen, Doctor Pylos had corrected the diagnosis to the chicken pox.

 

Now that they were finally home, after the appointment and buying all the necessary items for Shireen, Stannis started putting calamine lotion on his daughter. At the same time, he also started to think on the new problem that he was now presented was: what to do about Shireen and his date with Miss Stark?

He had planned for Davos to pick her up from school and to have Shireen stay at Davos and Marya’s house for the evening. Unfortunately their two year old had yet to have the chicken pox, and Stannis was definitely not ready to be blamed for getting baby Steffon ill.

He definitely couldn’t ask Robert. Even if his brother’s booming voice did not frighten Shireen a little, Stannis wasn’t deranged enough to have someone as incompetent as his brother take care of his five year old daughter, especially whilst she was ill.

As for Renly... he knew he was being narrow-minded but he wasn’t sure he was ready to leave Shireen with a very openly homosexual couple. – He was just as worried of Shireen’s reaction as well as Tyrell’s ‘over the top’ – _flamboyant_ \- persona. Until now, all interactions that included Tyrell and Renly as a couple near his daughter had been kept to a minimum. He felt that five was maybe a little too early to explain to Shireen that some boys preferred kissing with other boys, rather than girls.

 

The most sensible solution for Shireen and the one he definitely preferred was staying himself with his daughter. This was the first time Shireen was truly sick, and Stannis had no intention of leaving her with anyone but him in case she had nightmares.

 

As he helped her put on a clear pair of soft pyjamas, Stannis heard the front door ring.

 

It was only when he went to answer the door and opened to a beautifully dressed Sansa Stark that Stannis realised his mistake: he had forgotten to warn Miss Stark of the possible changes for the evening.

Stannis felt himself pale as he greeted her: “Sansa.”

 


	4. Chapter 4 - An Unexpected Favour

 

The day of the date had finally arrived and Sansa was pretty she had never felt this nervous or _confused_ about a first date before.

Then again, her dates never _had_ spent 40 000 Dragons to actually go out with her either.

 

But it wasn’t just the money.

It was also the fact that the date was with _Stannis Baratheon_.

Sansa still couldn’t put her head around that fact _she_ had a date with _Stannis Baratheon._

_Stannis Baratheon_ had donated 40 000 Dragons so he could go on a date with her.

– _Why_?

They barely knew each other.

The longest conversation they would of had had probably been the one of the two at the Charity Fundraiser – _just before or just after he spent 40 big ones on me_...

... And she still couldn’t understand _why_?

No matter how many times she repeated in her head, how many times Margery talked about how much profit Sansa had brought to the fundraiser, how many people went up to her and talked about the evening or the ‘Forty Thousand Dragon Date’, Sansa was still as confused now as she had been when Stannis Baratheon had first called out ‘ _7 500 Dragons_ ’ during the auction or at the end with the famous _’40 000 Dragons_ ’.

 

Discussing it with Margery hadn’t really helped, as they had thought of various possibilities as to _why_ :

_He actually found her attractive... – Margery_

_Robert forced him into it... – Sansa_

_He has a thing for red heads... – Margery_

_Renly forced him into it... – Sansa_

_Wanted to get lucky with her, so pulled out the big bucks... – Margery_

_Had a momentary personality change... – Sansa_

_Did not want to lose to Petyr Baelish or Tyrion Lannister... – Margery_

_Lost a bet... – Sansa_

_Wanted to **save her** from Petyr Baelish or Tyrion Lannister... – Margery _

_He had decided to donate a large sum of money to the charity and had needed a reason behind it... – Sansa_

_He actually wanted to go on a date with her... – Margery_

 

But at Margery’s constant ‘optimism’, Sansa pointed out that Stannis Baratheon just _did not_ show interests in anyone, especially no one _female_ ; except for maybe for Shireen. But that was _way_ different, since she was his _daughter_.

Even after the bachelorette auction, they had only briefly talked before Baelish came to ruin it and then Loras more or less forced Stannis to ask her to dance.

Even during their dance, when she had tried flirting he seemed as uninterested as ever. He kept himself as far as respectfully possible, his left hand high up on her shoulder blades – surely someone truly interested in her would have put his hand lower on her back, or would have brought her body closer to his... or been more receptive to her tango comment...

Not to mention he had barely any reaction when she basically started talking about her breast to him, and how they were _too big_ for her to continue ballet. – It had definitely not been the response you would have expected from a guy that would be interested in her.

After that Margery just sighed, throwing her hands in the air, giving up.

 

Defeated, she sunk in her office chair, deciding it best to just get on with the day before she would go home and get ready for the date. – There wasn’t much she could do now anyway.

Not that there was much she could have done before.

Stannis Baratheon had paid 40 thousand Dragons to go on a date with her for charity. She just couldn’t have said: ‘ _no_ , _I’m not going to go, I refuse’_.

\- Not that she actually wanted to cancel the date.

She was actually surprised Stannis had not cancelled... which came back to the fact that: Why had he participated in her auction and had paid such a huge amount of money to go on a date with her?!

Turning her attention to her computer screen, Sansa had one last thought, before focusing on her next article: she knew that it would be an interesting experience, no matter what; one that she would probably remember for the rest of her life: - A date with Stannis Baratheon was not the sort of thing that happened every day.

 

Resolved, the morning continued on more or less smoothly until around eleven- thirty when her phone started vibrating. – Looking down at the screen she noticed the caller ID: **_Stannis Baratheon_**.

Sansa heart skipped a beat: _\- Gods, he has probably finally realised that he doesn’t actually want to spend an evening with me and is calling to say this was a huge mistake: he’s going to cancel the date_.

Trepidation running through her, Sansa answered nervously: “Hello... Stannis?”

The voice on the other end sounded a little strange as he replied: - _“Hm... Good Morning, Miss Sta-Sansa. I am sorry to bother you at work but I have just realised that my afternoon meeting will unfortunately be quite time-consuming. I know this isn’t very courteous on my part, but I was wondering if it was at all possible for us to meet at my house, instead of me picking you up at your flat?... I wouldn’t ask this normally, however the meeting is with a rather demanding client, who is unfortunately quite an important one as well.”_

Sansa blinked, her mind buzzing for a split second.

If it had been any other guy, the Margery voice in the back of her head would have wondered if this was a ploy for him to skip the dinner and ‘ _get his money’s worth_ ’ by getting her to directly come to his house... _and bed_... But this was Stannis Baratheon: surely he would definitely not have an ulterior motive other than the actual reason he had stated...

... And he was not cancelling the date!

Relieved somewhat, Sansa had a small smile as she answered: “Oh... Of course, of course. Don’t worry about it, that’s not a problem at all. Could you please give me your address? Also, what time should I arrive?”

\- _“Thank you for your understanding Sansa. My address is 21 Dragon Hill, in the Iron Gate area. Could you please come around 17:30?”_

“O-of course, 17:30 is perfect. See you then Stannis.”

_\- “Thank you again, and see you this evening Miss Stark.”_

 

She had barely hung up and placed her phone on the desk when a voice came from behind her:

“Still forced into that date then Sansa?”

Sansa now felt true dread run down her spine: of course Petyr Baelish would be there listening to her conversation the one time Stannis called about their date...

Forcing the bile back down, and a smile in its place, Sansa swerved her chair to face Mr Creep:

“Mr Baelish, how can I help you today?...” – _See how I keep it professional, and won’t **ever** address you by your first name_...

His face turning into one of sympathy, Baelish replied: “I just wanted to apologise again for not being able to out bid Mr Baratheon. I feel somewhat responsible for putting you through a whole evening with Stannis Baratheon... Gods some men just have no sense of propriety when it comes to their money and power... At least Miss Tyrell and yourself were able to get the most money out of him at the charity function...”

Sansa felt her smile tighten as Baelish continued to blabber on, not listening to any more of what he was saying...

\- _Gods the man is delusional_. And did he really think she would rather be on a date with him?! ... Not only was he the King of Creeps but he was her boss’ boss surely there was some office rule about this?

That’s when she realised that he had stopped talking and was looking at her expectantly. – _Crap...shit ... Ohhh Old Gods: what was he talking about?... did he ask me something, and wants a reply?... did he comment on something and wants a reaction?... did he say a crude joke as is waiting for me to laugh?_...

Sansa opened her mouth slowly still trying to think of the best way to respond to the first part, when suddenly her office desk phone rang.

_Miracle from the Old Gods: Thank you Children of the Forest_!

Saved she quickly picked up the receiver:

“Sansa Stark, how may I help you?”

A cheery –giggly voice answered: “Hello Sansa, it’s Myranda from the front desk; there is a package delivery for you. Apparently it was a _top priority order_ : you need to come down and sign for it.”

Sansa frowned: “A package from me... but I didn’t order anything.”

Myranda let out another chuckle as she replied: “Trust me: you’ll want this package.”

“Alright, be right down.”

Hanging up, she noticed that Petyr Baelish was still looking down at her expectantly.

Standing up, Sansa made sure that she did not lean any closer to him as she spoke: “I’m sorry Mr Baelish, there is an urgent delivery for me downstairs that I need to go sign for, if you’ll excuse me...”

Not even waiting for a reply, she swerved around him and headed for the elevators.

 

A elevator ride down twenty floors, Sansa arrived in the lobby to be greeted with the largest arrangement of blue roses she had ever seen.

Upon noticing her, Myranda, stood up from behind the front desk and exclaimed to the whole space: “Are they not the most gorgeous thing ever!”

_\- Oh Gods... the **flowers** are for me!?!_...

If Sansa had not wanted to die after the auction Saturday, she certainly wanted to be swallowed up into the Seven Hells now.

Her face turning as red as her hair, she tried to ignore the curious glances of the few people in the lobby, and walked as fast as possible to the front desk.

Quickly signing the bouquet from the delivery guy, Sansa tried to tune out Myranda as she continued blabbing:

“Wow, Stannis Baratehon must really like you: first spending sooo much money on you at the auction... then when you guys dancing... Oh... you two just looked _a-ma-zing_ together in those pictures... you in that dress... and him in a tux... I must say I had never really noticed him, compared to his younger brother, until that very moment, but wow-wy was I _impressed_...”

For some reason, Sansa suddenly felt the need to point out that Maryanda should look elsewhere since he was _hers,_ as she looked at the PA fanning herself. Thankfully, however, she regained her senses and only gave a small smile and then shrugged before taking the twenty or so flowers to her desk.

 

Alas, when Sansa did return to her desk, Petyr Baelish was still there, clearly waiting for her. And by the look on his face, _he_ clearly did not like the package she had received.

On the other hand the ladies of ‘Fashion and Fabrics’ all started gushing and saying how _romantic_ and _thoughtful_ Mr Baratheon was, and giggled about where they thought he might take her...

A good twenty minutes later, the women still gossiping and Baelish still glaring, Sansa decided to quickly go to her direct boss, Tyrene Sand – one of the only people on the floor that actually still seemed to be doing some work - and asked if she could possibly take the rest of the day off, seeing as she probably wouldn’t get anymore work done. Ms Sand happily agreed, even giving Sansa a: ‘ _have a lovely evening_ ’.

 

Collecting her stuff, Sansa decided it best to also take the flowers home due to the attention they had caused... as well as the fact that she was pretty sure Baelish would destroy them in the evening, once everyone else had left, if she did leave them on her desk.

 

. . . . .

 

It took Sansa thirty minutes to get home, another thirty to prepare and eat a salad – did not want to eat too much just in case Stannis brought her to a very foody place tonight – before the butterflies really started fluttering...

 

... First, it was when she finally read the card that had come with the roses:

**_‘The flowers for all their beauty could not compare to you, for theirs will fade whilst yours is endless..._ **

**_I count the petals till this evening,_ **

**_SB_ ** **’**

 

Even though she actually liked the message, the sentiment was quite on the sickly-sweet side that Sansa wondered if Stannis had found the message online or it he had actually written the note himself at all?

 

... Then it was the getting ready - the cleaning herself part: she plucked her eyebrows, took a shower washing both hair and body, shaved her legs and armpits, blow dried her hair, put some lotion one... but then she wondered if she should trim in _other places_...?

Surely Stannis Baratheon wouldn’t try going passed first base... tops second base... _right_?

In any case: would she let him...?

... This brought on panic number three and four: what to wear and what exactly _did_ Stannis Baratheon expect from the date?

 

After literally going through her whole closet and pacing for quite a while, Sansa finally had an amazing idea: _Renly_!

Scrambling for her phone, she quickly called the younger Baratheon brother, hoping that he could give some insight to the mind of Stannis Baratheon.

Thankfully after only two rings the man answered:

_“Hellooo Sansa. How is my favourite soon-to-be sister-in-law?”_

“Haha – very funny Renly. This is serious: I need your help.”

His tone changing slightly, Renly asked: _“What can I help you with?”_

“Ok – this is a serious question Ren, so try to take it seriously: promise me.”

_“... What? Of course I can be serious.”_

“Ok... fine, but remember: serious.”

_“Yea...yea... get on with it: I am totally on ‘serious mode’.”_

“Ok...– What do you honestly think Stannis will expect from a 40 thousand Dragon date?”

There was a long pause, before Sansa heard Renly sigh: “ _Wow... well... that’s a loaded question. If it was Robert, the answer would be easy: a bottle of whiskey, a bed, some sexy ling-“_

“-stop, I do not want to know anymore on _Robert_. I am asking about _Stannis. Baratheon_. Your _other_ brother.”

_“Darling – honestly I have no idea... I first wondered if Ned and Robert had been able to rope him in their ridiculous ‘Saving Sansa’ thing, but then when he was just staring at you like a piece of meat during the auction and again later, when you were dancing... Well let’s just say: the man clearly seemed smitten... Well looked smitten for Stannis Baratheon standards, so he might not have actually be-“_

Sansa’s mind had completely blanked at the start of the sentence that it took her a few moments to react, blubbering she interrupted Renly:

“-Wow, wow, wow... Back up a second: what exactly did you mean by ‘ _able to rope him in their ridiculous ‘Saving Sansa’ thing’_?”

At the question there was another long pause, this one even more daunting than the last one. It went on for so long that Sansa was worried that Renly had hung up:

“Renly?”

A crocked voice answered: _“...y-yes?”_

Frowning, Sansa snapped: “You haven’t answered my question.”

_“I haven’t?”_

“Not the last one: what exactly did you mean by the _‘Saving Sansa’ thing_ comment?”

There was a long sigh on the other end, before Renly finally reply, sounding apologetic: _“Ok Sansa... don’t be mad-“_

“-Just. Answer. The. Question. Renly.”

_“I will... I am... it’s just you need to not get mad. I mean, it’s what fathers do... It’s part of their job: trying to protect their daughters at all cost. Dad does it with Marg-“_

“-Renly, get on with it.”

_“Fine... well, I am pretty sure that when Eddard realised the nature of the main event of the charity he ... got a little **panicked**... for you. About you being part of the auction...Which led him to try and find a ‘suitable’ bidder for you... I mean, Robert even came to me to ask if I would bid for you. They just wanted to make sure you didn’t end up with someone like Walder Frey, or Doctor Pycelle... or, let’s be honest: Petyr Baleish – I had shivers when he started bidding on you.”_

“Sooo, what you are saying is that my dad and Robert conjured up this whole elaborate thing to make sure I didn’t end up on a date with some creep that would pawn all over me during our date?”

“ _Y-yes.”_

“And that they roped Stannis into bidding on me because of my father?”

“ _...N-no... well not exactly... well Sansa darling, I think that that’s not really the issue here... I’m pretty sure the reason Stannis is going on a date with you is because he wants to -“_

“-Yea, as a favour to Robert and dad!”

_“No... that’s not what I meant: I meant that Stannis would count his lucky stars to spend an evening with you.”_

A tight smile on her face: “Of course he would. Thank you Renly for the clarification.”

“Sansa... wait, I feel you are still not getting it.”

“Oh don’t worry: I totally understand. Dad and Robert asked Stannis to step in because he wouldn’t take advantage of me in any way, and would treat me with respect... something that Stannis wouldn’t mind doing for one evening... Anyways I’ve git to go now, need to go get ready for my _date_.”

“ _Y-yes, but Sansa I-“_

Sansa hung up before he could say anymore.

 

Fuming at her father and at Robert... and at Stannis, she started pacing the room.

_Right! ... So dad planned this whole thing behind my back!... and got Robert Baratheon to help out!?! Seriously!? ... And the best they could come up with is Stannis?! Does dad really not trust any man in Westeros except for the one man who probably has not gotten laid since the conception of his daughter?!_

_\- Well if they think I will just let them control MY date, they have another thing coming_!?!

 

Resolute, she picked up her phone once more and ignored the missed call message from Renly, but instead dialled Margery’ number:

“ _Hey hey hey, you all ready for your hot date?!_ ”

“Margery: you know how for the last week, you have been begging me to let you dress me and style me for my auction date, and I kept saying no?”

“ _Y-yea...?_ ”

“Well, things have changed, and I need a favour: I think I might need one of your dresses and a makeover!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Stannis – 35; Sansa- 23  
> This was supposed to be a one shot, prompted by the lovely Tommyginger, but I’m pretty sure there will be a few chapters (since I already have a few extra scenes written down)


End file.
